


The Ever-shifting Tides

by Casperwolf



Category: Star Wars
Genre: Blood and Violence, Child Neglect, F/M, I'm sure she's actually really nice, Leia bashing, Murder, Orphans, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, i will tag as i go, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 09:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11288352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casperwolf/pseuds/Casperwolf
Summary: Orphaned at a very young age, Freya has never really known what a family was like, not until she was taken in by the great Luke Skywalker and trained to be a Jedi on Yavin 4. When the Knights of Ren destroyed the Temple, she was placed in the care of Leia Organa. Freya quickly learned that fate doesn't travel in straight lines. Poe Dameron was a dashing white knight, and the savior of her broken heart. How can she explain to him why she could never completely be his?





	1. Lips of an Angel

**Author's Note:**

> So this is only he second story I have every written, but the first I've posted in years. I hope you like it, and I apologize for any errors.
> 
> Also, in the canon they state that Kylo is about 30 in 'The Force Awakens' and that Rey is 'about twenty', and that he turned dark side when he was at least 23. This is currently in conflict with the idea that Rey went to the Luke's academy and was there when Kylo attacked it. If she had been there he would have actually been around 16 when he turned. This is the direction that I'm going with in this story.

_"We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered. - Tom Stoppard_

* * *

 

Her heart clenched in painfully beneath her breast as she stared blankly at the sleek data pad lying limply in her palm. 'Call ended' flickered off the screen a moment later, and she numbly placed it face down upon the dark granite counter. She wasn't really sure how to process what she was feeling, especially once she remembered who was softy snoring in the very next room. She smiled weakly at the memory of how he would look right now, curled up and snuggled deep in their comforter; probably drooling. A small giggle slipped past her full, rosy lips at the mental image only a moment, before the faint smile slipped away again and warped into a bitter frown. The words _'I'm happy'_  played on repeat in the forefront of her mind, while her aching heart seemed to throb in protest to what her mind was trying to convince her of. It said _'If I am so happy, then why does it feel like my heart, just got trampled?'_

It shouldn't still be this difficult— _just to talk to him_ —after all this time and distance. After all, it had been almost a decade since they had both been in the same room, let alone the same planet. Absently a slender hand moved to curl possessively around a white, ceramic mug that contained her long-since-cooled peach tea. The absence of heat caused her to pause in her distracted attempt to comfort herself. She had brewed it in preparation for bed as she always did, but it had been swiftly abandoned once her datapad had begun to ring. Under normal circumstances, she never would have answered a call this close to bed. Anyone who was important to her was aware of her usual routine and also understood how much she hated her routines being interrupted. That said, when she had seen the name of her caller lighting up in the corner of her pad; she had instinctively answered when she should have been figuring out a way to track the call. It was way past the time for that though, and if anyone actually found out who it was that she had been talking to; she would face worse than a court-martial. Freya released the breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding, and swayed a little on the balls of her feet; other hand moving instinctively to catch herself on the counter. Her knees wobbled uncertainly as her traitorous heart clenched again painfully and stole the breath from her lungs. She bit her lip to hold back the sound of her quickly forming sobs, just in case her peacefully sleeping boyfriend in the next room wasn't quite as asleep as she thought he was.

He was trusting her, probably a little to much, not complaining about her helping an old friend through a shitty patch of his life. Not that she had exactly told him who it was she would be talking to... She really ought to have known better than to put herself in this position again, but she was never really good at just watching people suffer alone. Especially when that person was one of her oldest friends, and despite what horrors he had inflicted upon the world. On a regular day, she could barely recall his face on her own without having to glance at old photos, but fresh out of that call; his face was clear as day and as branding as the proverbial laser knife she’s had to use to cauterize the emotional wounds he'd left her with another lifetime ago. Frey had thought herself to be in a better place than she obviously had been, but hearing his lilting voice and broken chuckles at shared jokes over the clear line... Well, she had definitely underestimated her resolve.

She had thankfully declined his attempt at a vid call, as she was sure even back then that she lacked the resolve to properly school her facial features enough to get through a conversation with him without causing some kind of upset. True to form, had he seen her silent reactions to the words he had spoken to her, he would have known she wasn't alright. _'That's the problem, I should be alright. There is nothing left of the man I remember,'_ she assured herself harshly. Even as the words formed in her mind, she knew them to be lies, especially with the memory of his words still freshly branded into her mind.

 

* * *

_(moments earlier)_

 

_**"She cheated on me Kai...."** _ _Why was he telling her this, she wondered silently, making absent 'hmms' and 'mhms' at appropriate times while she tried to reconcile who's voice it was on the other line. They hadn't spoken for years, and he hadn't called her by her middle name since the last time she had seen him; before the mask. Not since he'd burned her world to the ground around her like a loose spark on a dry field. Still, his voice pinned her in place like a bystander watching an accident; she couldn't look away if she'd tried._

_**"I thought she loved me... she said she did..."** _ _Was he even capable of love anymore? She knew he had been once, but how after all his atrocities could he possibly claim to be able to love._

_**"It felt like how we were back then... I'd forgotten how that felt after you..."** _

_Frey fought back a sudden sob that had caught in her throats upon hearing those words. Unfortunately she couldn't tell if it was due to her own feelings, or the wave of depression that was washing over her. Curiosity killed the cat they say, **"Do you know why she did what she did?"** Silence met her question on the other line, and a sardonic chuckle was the only answer that she had gotten at first. With the absence of his rambling, she heard the subtle swishing of liquid as she then assumed he had taken another drink of whatever it was that had inebriated him._

_**"She said she was bored... Ha, can you imagine that? I literally took her to the most amazing places Kai! I took her to the Festival of Lights in Naboo, and swimming in the beautiful pools of Bespin..."** he was rambling now, but each place he mentioned was like a physical stab to the heart. They had talked about going to all of those places when they grew up, but they had been only children with big dreams and bigger aspirations. They were going to become the best Jedi that had every existed, even better than their master Luke Skywalker... Funny how things work out in the end. _

_**"So what are you going to do?"** The question had formed and was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Why the fuck did she even care!_

_**"She called me today, asked to come over..."** he began, and the tone of his voice had her wishing she could stop the words that were flowing from his lips. **"I told her to fuck off at first but she refused to stop sitting outside my door. Hell, Kai she even slept out there in the hallway..."** Once again she felt like she was strapped into a runaway speeder aimed at a wall, as much as she wanted to slam on the breaks, morbid curiosity kept her wondering how much it would hurt to hit the wall full speed. Maybe this conversation would be the last thing needed to break the remaining ties that bound them together still. **"I let her in, we talked... she told me some things that had been festering in our relationship... it was actually pretty eye-opening but really hard to hear."**_ _He paused as if he was waiting for something, or maybe because he didn't really want to tell her what happened next. She could have dropped the subject, tried to turn it to something else, but the masochist in her was in full control of the reins, and she just had to know._

_**"Sounds like things went well then, right?"** Another sardonic chuckle and another swishing chug of whatever it was he was drinking, and then she hit the wall._

_**"Well yeah, I guess. We were just talking out on a cruise in my ship and things got a little hot.... and I ate her out."** She couldn't breathe for a moment, and she was instantly worried that her heart had stopped. Half a second later in thumped again painfully and she silently released the air in her lungs. Frey felt like she'd been punched in the gut._

_**"Oh, well, really good then,"** was all she managed to squeeze out of her brain, which had apparently short-circuited._

_He chuckled again and sighed before replying, **"Yeah I guess so, but what if she's just staying because she's afraid I'll kill her or something?"** She balked at the question, unsure how to reply without upsetting one of the most powerful men in the universe. On one hand, she could be honest and tell him that it's entirely possible that she was scared for her life, after all he hadn't flinched at the idea of killing anyone before; let alone some girl who had wronged him. On the other hand, telling the truth to him right now would probably only end badly for her. Better to evade this time._

_**"Well, is that even a possibility? Would you kill her if she didn't stay?"** Silence met her on the other end of the line, and for a moment she was sure she had stepped over a line. Thankfully he didn't make her wait long._

_**"To much work I think. Better to just ship her off to some slave world..."** Yeah she was pretty sure that in that girl's situation, being bored was definitely better than the prospect of a lifetime spent in the chromium mines of Burnin Konn. **"You were never scared of me Kai... that's why I always loved you."** Once again her lungs seized and she found herself getting light-headed. **"Remember that time we were hiding from the minders on that large tree by the archive building? We were eating jogan fruit we'd stolen from the kitchens and you got the juice all over your robes."** Strangely, she did remember that day. It had been uncharacteristically nice out that day and they had snuck away from their teachers so they could enjoy it. They couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time._

_**"I only spilled it on me because you kept poking me in the ribs and tickling me..."** she grumbled, her tone leaning towards amusement._

_He laughed at that. Not the sardonic chuckle he had been giving her up to that point, but a real laugh that brought her spirally backwards through time; back to when things had seemed so much more simple. It was lyrical and entoxicating, just like she remembered it being. Well, maybe it wasn't as deep back when she had known him. That day had been amazing, even if the two of them eventually had to face up to their minders when dinner time came around. It had been the first time she had gone to bed with an empty belly, but it hadn't been the last. Still, Master Skywalker and been lenient and had given them both extra dessert for breakfast the morning after. His voice brought her back to the present though as he continued to drag her down memory lane._

_**"I had forgotten that honestly, but when you told me you were worried that my uncle would punish you, I promised that I wouldn't let that happen..."** _

_**"Because you said you were going to marry me someday..."** she finished with a small gasp. She wasn't sure that he'd actually heard that, but she had tried to hold it down. She had obviously failed._

_**"Yeah... I did, didn't I? We were really young back then."**  She wasn’t positive where this conversation was headed, but she was pretty sure that eventually he would ask about her life now and she wouldn't be able to answer him. How did one tell a first-love-turned-greatest-enemy that she was responsible for the deaths of many of his higher ranked generals? Either way, it wouldn't end well. She needed to once again aim this conversation in another direction. As hard as it was for her to hear about his newest exploits, it was agony to hear about their shared past. As far as she was concerned, everyone she knew had died the day her temple had burned to ashes._

_**"So... anyway, I honestly think that if you believe you two can work it out, you should try. You never know, she could surprise you."** Freya didn't believe for a single damn moment that this girl would ever actually love him again. If she had cheated on him once, she was bound to do it again. It was just the way of the 'verse, but if her little lies could save that random girl that she would never actually meet from a horrible life in some Outer Rim mining colony, she would lie as much as necessary. _

_**"Hm. Really? Yeah I guess so... Well Kai, I have some big stuff going on in a couple days and I have to get some sleep. Talk to you later?"** As confusing as this whole whirlwind conversation had been, she hadn't been expecting him to so easily release her from this kriffing conversation. _

_**"Yeah, sure. Goodnight...."** she had almost slipped and allowed herself to use his name, but that would have extended the conversation exponentially, and she had already wasted so much precious time on this strange call as it was. _

_**"Hey Kai?"** He said suddenly._

_**"Yeah?"** she questioned quietly. _

_**"Maybe one day I'll keep that promise we made back then..."** _

 

* * *

  _(back to present)_

 

The line had gone dead then, and she was left feeling bereft. How much had just hearing his voice affected her? Clearly more than she had first thought it would. She pressed down on the counter with the arm that held her upright, and righted herself while attempting to wrangle her rebellious heart back into submission. How she was reacting wasn't fair to her either of the men on her mind, and it wasn't really healthy for her either. It wasn't like Poe wasn't the most amazing guy she had ever met, because he was. He was sweet, attentive, and most of all he was safe. He kept her safe, and guarded her like a sacred, irreplaceable treasure. With Poe she knew she was loved and he proved it in small ways every day. Their quarters weren't spacious, but they had filled it up to the very corners of every wall with mementos of their life together.

It would be considered impressive that they had actually managed to accumulate so many knickknacks in the first place, if one considered the fact that life within the resistance was often times spent on the run moving from place to place. Life on D'Qar wasn't always sunshine and daisies, but for the last couple years it had become home. As Freya parted her eyelids to hesitantly glance around the room, it hit her once more how shifted her world felt now in comparison to only a few hours ago. In that moment, standing on shaky legs in the middle of her small kitchenette, she felt like a stranger in her own home.

A sob caught in her throat and she jerked her hand up to her mouth to halt the sound, and inadvertently brought her ceramic mug plummeting towards the ground. Instinct and fear won out in the end as she threw her opposite hand out towards the glass and it halted mere inches from the ground. Power thrummed betwixt the distance of her fingers and the prone glass. As she lowered her hand, so too did the glass until it gently made contact with the floor. Frey's eyes widened and she flinched before swiftly pulling her now-fisted hand against her chest and shaking her head in shame. It had been years since she had last needed to tap into the deep reservoirs of the universe. It was only one of a handful of damning secrets that she had ever kept from Poe, but how could she ever find the right words to finally explain it all to him; let alone string them in the correct order.

The brunette sunk down to the floor, her back sliding harshly against the plasteel sides of the counter. _'What the fuck is wrong with me? I am never this careless.'_ She sat there on the chilled floor, whimpering in silence, and chastised herself thoroughly. Only one person in the entire resistance knew of her ability to wield the Force, and she had sworn to keep her secret; as long as she remained in service to the resistance. At the time it made perfect sense. After all, The First Order was merely a subtle reflection of what the Galactic Empire had claimed to be, and she was everything that they claimed to hate. Her and her secret keeper had shared a common bond as well, though she would never understand just how at odds she had placed Freya's heart when she had bonded her in service. It hadn't all been hell though, as one could plainly see.

Once again her eyes slammed shut as she fought off the impending anxiety attack that she could feel coming with every labored sob that wracked through her body and every swiftly aching beat of her heart. Between the muted keening and her increasingly rapid breathing, she managed to pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms securely around them. _'I can beat this. I can keep myself from falling apart. I won't let him do this to me again.'_ With that thought firmly in mind, she forced herself to clear her thoughts by casting them out into the vast and twisting universe. It was like trying to catch petals in a hurricane.

Falling back on her training, rusty as it was, she managed to slow her breathing and reduce her sobbing down to muted whimpers. Her arms dropped to her sides, dangling uselessly as her hands collided with the floor with a low thud. The necessity to meditate on this level didn't happen all too often in her life anymore, but with the revelation she had gone through tonight; she needed to face her feelings and cast them into the Force to find an answer to her plight. The idea of it scared her, if she was going to be honest with herself. The threads of her connection to the Force was a many-reaching, tangled thing. Complex and simple at the same time, and only easily navigated by though of calm minds and patient practice. She had little patience, and she was the furthest thing from calm at the moment.


	2. Bones We Can Fix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya gets a mysterious late night call from an old friend. How will she deal with things when the past comes back to haunt her in the strangest of ways?

_"Find the place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain." - Joseph Campbell_

* * *

 

_'There is no emotion, there is peace._

At first she floundered, as it had been a very long time since she had dipped her toes in the vast ocean of the ever-shifting force. As Master Skywalker had once tried to explained to her in his ever patient tones so many years ago; in order to truly center oneself in times of tribulation, one must fearlessly face down the emotions at the center of the storm. It was this prevailing tenet that she had always tripped over, as facing her emotions had always meant facing her flaws as well. _'Which emotion causes the most ripples?'_ Fear? No, she was always afraid nowadays, what with the whispers of the First Order building a weapon that would put the Death Star to shame.

_'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.'_

_'That's not the fear I need to face today...'_ she reminded herself, though more gently than last time. _'No I fear the past at this time, not the impending future.'_ She envisioned his face as she had known him in her mind, recalling every freckle, the careless way his cheeks had dimpled when he smiled at her, and the softness of his skin beneath her hungry fingertips. She vividly recalled the way his thin fingers had traced sprawling designs over her naked skin with such precise skill. Skill honed over years of exploring familiar territory, and mapping every inch of her. Of all the things that made up the man she’d loved so erringly, it was his eyes that had always pinioned her so artfully. Frey used to dream about the rich, brown eyes of her childhood love. Even as a child she had been captivated by their dark depths, and enthralled by the molten gold hue that encircled the outer edge of his irises. Back then they hadn’t been so haunted or full of pain, just boundless wonder and child-like hope. It was only years later that the eyes she had come to memorize became filled to the brim with hatred and so much fear. Oh yes, she did indeed fear him. How could she not with what she knew of him, both from rumor and from personal experience? If only it were that simple. Because as much as she wished that those were the only reasons she held for fearing him; the truth was so much worse.

_'There is no passion, there is serenity.'_

_'No, I fear him because of what I have felt and continue to feel for him, and from him.'_ The masters of old had once preached of the temperance of the Force, but ever since the day that she had been all-but-forced into service under General Organa, all she had felt was turbulence and uncertainty. With a gentle caress that she could only ever describe as the feeling of being wrapped in the warmest of blankets, she pushed herself to recall the teachings of her master and his words echoed profoundly in the caverns of her desperate mind, **_'Freya, be honest with yourself and embrace your feelings... then let them go and be filled with only the Force.'_** Honesty was a difficult concept for a girl who molded and remade herself at the fickle whim of the resistance, but just this once she would do her best to take heed of her previously abandoned teachings.

_'There is no chaos, there is harmony.'_

It had been lifetimes, at least to her, since she had felt harmony whilst wrapped in the bright confines of the Force. What was once a great comfort in her life had been tainted by the memories of what destruction could be wrought by those who wielded it from a place of rage and cruel ambition. The many anguished faces of the children she had grown up with, learned with and perhaps even loved would forever be etched deeply in her psyche. Freya sometimes still dreamed of them, on the harder nights. They would come to her on fire, charred and melting with fingers pointed at her in silent accusation. Though she had played no active part in his betrayal, guilt had still settled heavily upon her shoulders as one of the only few to survive the Yavin massacre. Why had she survived when so many had perished? There was no reason that made sense to her, and thus logically, she should have died with the others.

_'There is no death, there is the Force.'_

_'I'm afraid of him, because I still feel love in my heart for him.'_ This alone would enough to damn her, as loving a man like him would never lead to any path that she would wish to tread. _'I am angry because I shouldn't be a safe harbor for these wayward feelings.'_ Anger had always been her greatest failing. It was so deeply carved into her very being that when she had trained to release it, it had been almost physically painful. _'I'm despondent because despite all I know and have witnessed, there is yet nothing I can do to eradicate the remnants of the man whom once coveted my heart like the rarest of kyber crystals.'_ He truly had coveted her, almost as much as she had him. Their love had been all-consuming, and perhaps that had been what had led him astray. _'I feel hate. So much hate because as much as I love Poe, I can never, ever truly be his alone because part of my heart still cries out for him.'_

With that last revelation, she felt herself propelled out from the previous stillness of the Force and once more found herself sprawled out limply on the floor of the quarters that she shared with the man she loved. _'One of them, at least.'_ A weak snoring rumbled in through the cracked door that lead to their room, and she managed a faint smile through her slowly falling tears. It always ended that way. Every meditation was spent trying to make progress through her feelings, only to be cast out like the unworthy wretch that she was. Freya had known it was a long shot; but though she had made no perceptible progress on actually letting go of the taint that loving him had left on her, she had managed to get enough of a hold of herself to stop her anxiety attack. For now, that was enough.

Taking a deep and much needed breath she placed both hands palm-down, pushed herself up onto her legs, and stood on still-shaky legs back upright. With trembling hands she bent down to pick up the mug on the floor, and with purpose she walked over to the auto-washer and placed the cup into the bin to be cleaned. Though she had saved the glass, her carefully prepared tea had still splattered across the kitchen floor like a peach colored blood stain. The tea stained quickly and she hoped distantly that it wasn't too late to clean it up before that happened. It would be hard to explain how she had spilled her tea like that without shattering the glass as well. Not only that but she would have to tell Poe yet another lie instead of just telling him the truth like she should.

In the more populated inner rim planets, the affluent few had droids that handled the menial chores such as cleaning and laundry, but on D'Qar everyone had to clean up for themselves. In a small cabinet next to the cooking plate, she kept a small bundle of old rags made up of recycled clothing. It was filled with bits and pieces of old disguises and clothes that had been worn down to the threads, but she had salvaged what large pieces she could and stored them for use as cleaning towels or impromptu napkins. She hurriedly snagged a relatively large one, and quickly used it to mop up the growing pool of chilled liquid. Once she was done, she balled the now-stained linen up in her hands, and with one last, lingering glance at her discarded data pad, she turned back towards her bedroom and tossed the stained bundle in her hamper.

With a soft groan, she gently settled herself down into the small bed that she shared with the man she loved, and silently slipped back down between the sheets; trying her hardest not to wake the man who slumbered so calmly beside her. The ache of the day settled down into her bones as she propped herself up on her elbow, and allowed herself a guilty glance down at the smooth face of the man who had won her heart. She couldn't stop the small smile that curled at the edges of her rosy lips as he murmured adorable gibberish in is sleep. It was so much easier to forget **him** when she was looking down at Poe. Unlike the other man, she could recall Poe's face with ease at any time, regardless of where she was. She could be light years away from where ever he was and she could remember every single facet of his beautiful face, and every single wave in his dark brown hair. Through it all, it had always been his eyes that drew you in every time, and their rich russet tones had been the first thing about him she had noticed way back when.

 _'I've had my fill of walking memory lane today, despite the more pleasant path this time,'_ she thought to herself, suddenly breaking herself from her reverie. It was entering the wee hours of the morning on D'Qar, and she had an early briefing much earlier than she would have hoped. Frey gave herself a few more seconds to study him, before she wiggled down farther beneath the sheets, rolled herself over, and faced herself away from him. With a sleepy rumble, she felt the bed shift beneath her as he also rolled himself over as if zeroing in on this newly discovered heat source. Seconds later she felt a blisteringly warm arm snake itself around her waist and slip slowly beneath her thin shirt to cup one of her breasts gently in his calloused palm.

She felt his other arm attempting to shove its way beneath her head, and with a light, strained chuckle, she lifted her head from her pillow slightly to wait patiently for him to settle once more. A sense of serenity finally settled over her, and she began to allow herself to drift into the calm, black void of sleep. Unfortunately like all good things in her life, that bliss didn't last long, and in the farthest recesses of her mind she felt something dark and twisted uncoil inside her. Like that dull throbbing ache that remained once a limb was removed, the small part of her mind that would always belong to **him** , trembled.

Like a viper wrapped in endless coils, a presence pulsated with a deep thrumming, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as once again the familiar lilting tones and deep vibrations of his voice echoed across the vast seas of her mind. A voice, which she had wished to never hear again after tonight and yet she secretly yearned for, rippled through her mind.

 ** _'We are forever bound by our shared past. It was... great to hear your voice again Kai.'_** A shiver rushed though her like a live current and she immediately slammed down every mental wall she had, and focused every ounce of her will towards forcing closed the connection she hadn't noticed flare open once more.

 _'No, you cannot be here! Get out of my head!'_ She mentally hammered against the presence that struggled against her defenses. She could feel the rage and anger that seeped through into her from his side of their shared connection, and in a desperate attempt she channeled it back at him. It was wrong to use his fury against him, because by tapping into it, she inadvertently had to embrace the feeling herself.

Rage was never the answer to her problems but it was all she had right now. Freya couldn't afford to allow him any further into her mind. Sensitive things lived in her head, and she had worked very hard to keep them locked deep inside her mind. Hidden safely behind a dozen doors and mental barricades just in case an event like this ever happened. It hadn't been enough it seemed. She could hear him screaming at her in manic tones, but as she clawed and scraped enough of her defenses back into something that resembled manageable; the words he said faded and became indecipherable. Freya was winning. Although she could no longer understand him; the swirling ire and animosity that flowed towards her like spilled crimson ink was almost palpable.

This was her great shame. This was the reason that she could never fully devote herself to one single person, despite the depth of her love for them. It had been a mistake of youth. A silly, stupid, and irrevocable mistake to which there was no known recourse. After his betrayal, Master Skywalker had put himself in a self-imposed exile, but even from afar he had tried to help her discover a way to undo what had been done; what they had done. Despite his great knowledge of the Force both light and -questionably- dark, it had been to no avail and she was left bereft. Thus, she had suffered and endured the Force-bond that had been created between herself and the boy she had once known, and loved deeply.

Perhaps that was the reason that the bond had been created so strong? The juvenile feelings of lust and unrestricted ardor that they had felt for each other years previous, had served as a potent binding agent for the Force and trust that had flowed between them. If their shared Master had noticed the kindled feelings between his two Padawans, he had never confronted them on it; probably assuming it was just adolescent friendliness. Although, the more likely reason for his lack of intervention was that he understood keenly the folly of his father's path, and where not being allowed to love whom he chose had guided him. How could he be judge and jury over these two children, when he himself doubted the tenets of the Jedi code? After all, he himself had broken them time and time again by taking multiple apprentices, or by still harboring anger over his father's demise, and the series of events that had led him there.

The masters of old used to say that how one viewed the Force was different for every user. Some delved into their own minds to find an empty room filled with files, others went to places that calmed them like distant waterfalls or old libraries. Frey viewed her connections in an abstract of spidering tethers and swirls of color. When she concentrated on individual strands, they expanded, and would often reveal themselves as memories or places of comfort. If she were to allow it, she could concentrate on the swirling mass of darkness that lashed angrily at her walls, and they would likely find themselves in their old training room face to face. Freya couldn't allow that, nor would she give him the pleasure of seeing what she had become in the ten years since they had last seen each other over the burning wreckage of the Yavin temple.

Apart from that, when she viewed their bond it appeared to her like snaking tendrils of dark light that anchored themselves to her heart like a parasite. If she were to follow those same dark lines that connected them, she would find similarly placed lines of bright light attached to his own heart as well. He had actually mentioned them a few times back before the tethers on her heart had gone dark. Before he had forsaken everything he had ever claimed to care about, and everyone. He had told her that it made him feel more grounded in the good of the world, and he had promised that he would never neglect what they had. Little did she know how wrong he would turn out to be. Freya had hoped that with time, and a galaxy of distance; the bond would quickly wither and die like the roots of a dead tree. Yet here she stood a decade later, and it was still just as strong as the day it was forged.

All of this knowledge did little to help her now, as what had been done was done, and she had adapted to live with that. Well, she had thought she had. For all of her practicing and hours of mental preparations each night, he had slipped through her defenses like a knife slipped between the ribs. That was how it felt every time his darkness caressed her mind, like she was being impaled. With her eyes closed, she delved once more into the ocean of the Force and watched in a state of confusion as the strands of his darkness swirled just outside her newly erected defenses. Why did he deign to linger so just outside of the sanctuary she had erected in her mind? Didn't he realize that his actions were futile? That she would never again willing allow him access to the parts of her he had once had? The boy had done enough damage the first time, and she was sure that the man be had become was more than capable of a great deal more destruction.

Once more she cast her mind out to feel the ever flickering ire and vehemence that flowed through to her from his side of the bond, and she pushed out another wave of his own reflected anger and frustration at him in an attempt to get him to leave. She felt battered and worn thin from her extended use of the Force, and she reminded herself once again that she needed to stop neglecting her abilities; especially if he was going to begin visiting again. He retaliated quicker, stronger, as if by acknowledging his presence she had renewed his interest. She suppressed an audible growl as frustration settled down into her bones. She decided to just try to ignore him, and attempt to go back to sleep.

He wouldn't be ignored. Spurred on by the sudden indifference that he sensed from her, he beamed down harder against her defenses in an almost desperate attempt to once again have her attention. She opened her eyes and withdrew from the Force to glance over her shoulder at the peaceful face of the man who's arms encircled her possessively. Slowly, the frustration she felt petered away, and the remnants were washed away by the warmth she felt radiating from him. Once she was centered, she closed her eyes and once again concentrated on the dark swirl of energy. This time, instead of responding to him with reflected anger, she let him feel the depth of love she felt in that moment. If he had been practicing like she was sure he had been, he would know and understand instantly that what he was feeling from her was indeed love. What she hoped would send him away though, was the knowledge that the love that was filling up all of her cracks and broken pieces wasn't for him, but for another. As she watched, the abyssal swirl of him recoiled sharply as if burned, and began to sluggishly recede.

When she was sure he had finally gone, she pulled herself from the depths of their connection and settled her mind firmly on the present once more. Frey snuggled deeper against the warmth that had lent itself to her in her time of need, and groaned softly at his hands instinctual clench of her breast. He always did this when he slept, but never remembered in the morning. It was endearing. Still, now that everything had past she felt drained and uneasy. Love could do many things, but it couldn't truly heal what ailed her; not fully. Bone could be fixed, but her heart would need much more time. Pulling the covers up tightly across her face, she concentrated on only her breathing and let herself drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: the first post of this was riddled with errors so I had to repost it. 
> 
> This is the continuation of the previous chapter. It was way too long so I broke it up into two parts. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Question time! How do you think their Force-bond was forged? Answering gets you 100 points and my undying gratitude.
> 
> P.S. This writer lives off the essence of comments and kudos. Please don't let her starve.


	3. Burn It Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rocky start to the morning, Freya makes her way to her early morning briefing. While there, she gets some shocking news.

Freya woke up alone the next morning, still draped in the thin blanket she had curled herself in the night before. She spread her fingers across Poe's side of the bed and groaned when she felt nothing but chilled sheets. How long had he been gone? Anger flooded into her as she opened her eyes to glare at the glowing holo-clock on her nightstand. He'd let her sleep in again! She quickly bolted out of bed and instantly fell flat on her face as her foot tangled in the pale sheet she'd been previously cuddling. Pain lanced up both of her forearms and her left knee, but she forced herself up onto her feet anyways after shaking off the offending linen. The brunette felt a dark cloud hanging over her this morning, and Poe was going to get an earful when she finally got her hands on him.

Poe knew how much she loathed it when he let her sleep in past when she wanted to. Being prompt and on time to her briefings kept her sane, and it was a routine that she liked to stick to. Plus, the General had a tendency to yell at her if she missed too many in a small window of time. General Organa had actually been recently hinting that perhaps Frey’s romance with Poe was beginning to interfere with her work, and the last thing that the brunette wanted was to give the bitch the reason she needed to transfer one of them to a different base. The general thought of her as a tool, and tools that didn't work right weren't of any use.

When she had first come into the general's care, it had felt like coming home. There had always been a lingering sense of cold formality between Senator Organa and her son, though Freya had never really shared Ben’s suspicions as to her reasons for the distance between them. This could have been because during the handful of times that Frey had been in her presence; the older woman had appeared nothing but kind, if not a little harried. Before she had come to live with the woman she hadn't believed what Ben had told her about the senator; that she was absent, cold and often left him in the care of his nannies. Freya had believed that she was simply busy and her son was being overly dramatic; she had been very wrong to assume the best. Still General Organa had been, and still was, the closest thing to a mother that the young girl had ever really known.

At first general had handled her with kid gloves by tending to her and catering to her feelings, but after the first year she had been unceremoniously thrust into guard training. Perhaps the General had originally offered to keep the orphaned seventeen year old in the hopes that Luke would have to return for her, or maybe that she could use Frey to compel her son to come home. When both of those things turned out to be improbable, if not impossible, Leia had pawned her off onto her rebel teachers and moved her out into the recruit barracks. Eventually when she showed enough promise; Leia had found a use for her as a spy. This was how someone who Frey had once considered a mother had come to command her entire life, and she was never allowed to call her anything apart from 'ma'am', 'sir' or 'general'. As far as the brunette was concerned, the only reason that Leia Organa even kept her around anymore, was the simple face that she was irrevocably bound to her wayward son.

With all these thoughts settled prominently in the forefront of her mind, the brunette grumbled unintelligibly to herself as she pulled on her skin-tight, light-weight, custom shadow suit. Once she had finished with the last buckle, she swiped her fingers against the material on her left forearm and a small glowing screen flickered to life on the black material. She leisurely tapped in a few numbers, and the suit instantly hardened into a thicker, leather like material. Her shadow suit was special. It had been a special gift from her mentor, Krile, years ago when she had finally beaten him in a duel. It was similar in cut to the general's old suit, but hers was specifically made for missions which required no uncertain amount of secrecy and stealth.

It was made of shadow silk, a soft but unbelievably tough fiber, the best that imperial credits could buy and crafted to cancel out any rubbing noises when she moved. Thankfully her suit had also included a muffling layer in the gloves. It also lacked any form of electronic device that could be detected by sensors, or energy signature trackers. All shadow suits were created like this, but what truly made hers special was the mods her trainer had added which allowed her suit to morph into specifically coded designs that she input herself. It made the suit highly adaptable and perfect for most occasions. Her mentor claimed to have won the suit off some Outer Rim space pirates in a lucky game of Sabacc, but she hadn't bought a word of it. Instead she had hounded Krile hundreds of times about where he had really gotten it from. To this day he'd never told her. It had to have been an heirloom though, as no one had produced shadow suits in decades.

A stripe of thick, repeated diamond shaped padding formed on the outside of her upper arms, the front strip of her forearm, on her hips and thighs and down across the back of her calves. The transformation was pretty quick, and once it was done, she pulled on her knee-length black boots that had come with the suit; buckling them quickly. Though she no longer used a light saber, she had swiftly mastered the vibroblade; much to her teachers chagrin. That selfsame blade was the next thing she snatched up from where it had been leaning against the wall. Blade in hand, she righted herself and turned to exit her bedroom, not bothering to make the bed this morning; Poe could do it in return for leaving her behind this morning.

The girl meandered her way to the refresher and took in her disheveled bed-hair and the dark circles under her eyes. _'Wow, I look lovely this morning....'_ she thought to herself, cringing as she tried to drag her slender fingers through her chocolate brown locks. Small crimson streaks were woven through her hair as well, though you could hardly tell with the rat's nest they were buried in. She finger-combed through her hair carefully, and eventually with much time and all the patience she had in her whole body; she managed to tame her wild locks. Frey grabbed up her stealth-tech goggles and tightened the strap around her head. The straps were also custom-made and were made of plasteel and magnetically linked.

She had commissioned them this way just in case her choice to use them as a fashion accessory was misplaced and she needed to use them quickly. First she separated the shorter hairs of her fringe from the longer strands of her hair, and then with practiced confidence she began the work of weaving hair around the goggles to secure them to her head. Her fingers moved gracefully, twisting and turning strands of hair together into two separate braids at the sides of her head. One braid she pulled up and over the top of her head into a headband, while she pulled the other down under the rest of her hair by the nape of her neck. She pinned both pieces in place and then pulled up the remainder of her lower-back length hair into a messy ponytail. The brunette was hardly vain, but when it came to her hair she preferred it to look as precise as possible. She gave herself a sharp, scrutinizing once over, and found everything to be to her liking.

Falling easily into her usual morning routine, she reached into one of the small, smoothed out cubbies that were carved into the stone wall of her refresher and grabbed the few bits of makeup she occasionally used. She ran a black liner stick along the waterline of her eyes and then just above her lashes on her eyelids. She smudged the liner she'd put on her lids to create a rushed smoky effect. Frey usually didn't bother with concealer for the dark circles under her eyes, as they would fade quickly once she actually cared enough to direct the Force to heal them. She also didn't bother with lipstick, as her lips were already naturally rosy. All in all her morning routine was fairly mundane, but it suited her usual lifestyle; after all who had time for makeup when you were on the run or sneaking into top-secret facilities.

Frey exited the refresher and programmed the lights off as she left the small space and headed for her kitchen. Opening the small chiller in the corner, she pulled out a large, purple jogan fruit and swiftly sunk her teeth deep into the striped purple flesh. She smiled instantly at the rush of sweetness that flooded her mouth, and took a moment to savor the flavor. It was only recently that jogan fruit made it to her quarters; perks of dating the Resistance’s best fighter pilot. The woman would have been content to stay in that exact spot forever, but the small ping of the alert she had programmed into her suit’s mini-computer had her turning back towards the door to her quarters. Once there she leaned her vibroblade against the wall and snatched up a pure white cowl that had once been the general's. With a practiced flourish she pulled it over her head.

The general had given it to her in the wake of the Yavin massacre, having replaced it with a new one. It had been a luxurious comfort back then, but now Frey wore it because she knew it rankled the older woman to see her wearing it so casually. To the older woman’s credit, she had yet to ask for it back. It pooled around her neck and draped over her shoulders, flowing into a long cape that almost touched the floor. When the brunette was younger, she had run around in it everywhere and it had dragged along the ground. The ends had frayed and some of the once crisp edge had turned to tatters, but Frey made an active effort to keep it as clean as possible now.

The last thing she reached for was dangling on a hook near the door, and it completed her usual attire quite nicely. A duel-strap belt made of pale white leather and plasteel. It was decorated with a series of small pouches which contained any number of objects she'd needed on her missions; most importantly the small pill she was to eat if she was ever actually caught by the First Order. The side that adorned her right hip had two straps that merged into a single strap as it wrapped behind her, and it fastened in front with a silver buckle. A small blaster holster hung over her left hip as well. Frey had a distinct distaste for the blaster, but unfortunately her favored weapon had been lost over ten years ago, buried in the wreckage of the only place that had ever truly felt like home; Yavin. She hurriedly retrieved her blade’s scabbard, clipped it onto the intricately weaved band that it hung from, and threaded the band over her shoulder; clasping it together over her ribs diagonally.

Pain flared through her mind as repressed thoughts of that night fluttered through her mind; wild and unhindered they played themselves over and over in her mind until she was sure she would never be able to catch her breath again. Frey curled her fingers inward involuntarily and her nails dug into her palms; eyes clenched tightly and head bowed forward to press against the door in front of her. It was over in seconds, but to her it had felt as if lifetimes had passed her by. Her hazel eyes fluttered open and tears sprung unbidden from them to streak down her cheeks. Fear replaced the pain within her and she shook silently for a moment before she managed to calm herself once more. She hadn't had an attack like that in a very long time, and unfortunately she didn't have the luxury of time to have one now.

She swept a few strands of hair off her forehead and pushed the small button next to the exit. The door swished open, and the pained expression on her face was carefully restructured into a look of mild indifference. Freya had a very particular reputation with the resistance members on this base, hell all of the bases, and she was not going to upset that just because of a small slip in character. The brunette prowled the hallways like a tigress; regal and proud. She had resolved to pretend like the night before hadn't actually happened, and by god she was going to soldier on like she always did. It didn't take long before she reached the closed doors of the meeting room, and a small smirk appeared on her lips as she watched the two door guards share uneasy glances at her approach. **"Sorry ma'am, the briefing has already started. It's not to be disturbed..."** the first guard said uncertainly, trailing off at the end as he realized that she wasn't going to be put aside.

 **"It's the Generals orders,"** the other one bravely chirped soon after.

Freya had done what she could to school her cruel smile into one that came off more pleasant, but from the way they shifted beneath her gaze, she hadn't succeeded. **"I see. Well, in that case-"** she lifted a single hand to wave across their vision, **"you understand that those rules don't apply to me. You want to let me in like the nice boys you are."**

 **”Yes ma’am!”** They both shouted in unison, before parting way for her to pass by them. 

They nodded their heads and moved to punch in a code in a side panel of the door, parting them with a crisp swish. She smiled kindly at the two and lifted her hand in a mock salute before striding into the now silent room. Many heads had turned to train their eyes on her, but she simply walked through them as they parted for her. Once she reached the center of the room, she leaned against a large column and stared blankly back at the general who's own angry expression was plainly displayed on her face as she stared at her from across the broad holo-table. Freya smiled unabashedly back, and waved her hand before her like _go on, don't mind me_. The General then turned her attention back to Major Taslin Brance who had apparently been mid-report when she entered. **“Continue Major.”**

Frey tuned out most of the major's report, as it was usually some boring nonsense about First Order fleet movements. She distractedly cast her eyes around the room, looking for a very specific set of warm, brown eyes and a head of thick black hair. A frown graced her lips when she quickly realized that Poe wasn't actually here in this room. This struck her as odd because, like her, he was required to be at every one of these briefings. **"... stormtroopers on Jakku... Lor San Tekka killed..."** Why wouldn't he be here? He never missed these meetings. _'Well, maybe not never, there was that one day....'_ she mused to herself with a small smile as she recalled the feeling of his lips on the hollow between her neck and collarbone. They had stayed in bed all day, and he had taught her a new definition of worship. **"Dameron's x-wing found in pieces.... no sign of a body."**

The world stalled, or at least hers did. A chill worked its way through her entire body as every single muscle and tendon in her body instantly turned to stone. Her eyes shot up and over to the Major and her jaw locked in place; instinctively halting the sharp wail that was surely building up in her lungs. Was that why she couldn't breathe? Her hands shot out to the holo-table and she pressed the exact series of keys that would bring up the report that Brance was currently reciting. Her hands shook as she clenched the table as if it was the last piece of solid material in the 'verse. Hazel eyes hardened as she read through the report, but when she reached the part that referenced the attack and subsequent massacre of the small village on Jakku, her legs gave way beneath her. _‘No sign of a body or parts from BB-8 droid found at site of crash. This has to be wrong.’_ Immediately and without ceremony, she went crashing to the floor in a fit of ragged sobs. Though she would rather be wailing and screaming as loudly as she could, to do so would solve nothing; except to hinder the rest of the meeting. This summit was everything to the General, and she wouldn't tolerate it being interrupted, not even for Freya's anguish.

A few pilots had rushed to her as they heard the news, knowing that she wouldn't be anything close to alright, but as they reached for the distressed girl the General cleared her throat coldly and waved them off. For half an hour the girl sat where she had fallen, sobbing silently and alone. Her teeth were embedded deep within her fist to muffle the screams she wished to release. Poe was dead. Her Poe. His beautiful brown eyes… gone? _'How is this possible I just saw him... surely it was only a few hours ago. It's not possible that it was him.'_ She repeated this over and over, sinking ever deeper into denial as she pulled her legs ever tighter against her chest; back braced against the pale column she had been leaning against. Her body shivered in response to her despondence, and to anyone who might accidentally stumble upon her she looked as though her soul had been sucked from her.

The General, in all her glory, had continued the meeting with words and plans on how they would retrieve the salvageable parts of Poe's ship, and had prioritized finding the location of his BB unit and the map it surely held. It was cold, calculated, clinical, and it sickened her so much more than she ever thought possible. _'Now I know where her son's cruel streak came from,'_ she weakly considered before the thought fluttered out through the cracks of her fractured mind like ashes on the wind. Her muffled wailing had whittled away to silent whimpering by the time the meeting was excused, and the members allowed to leave. Some had passed by her without even a glance, but many more still had whispered their condolences as they skittered away back to their own families and away from the awkwardness that her grief had made them feel.

The General having been one of the first out of the door, hadn't even deigned to comment before excusing herself politely and sauntering past her. After some time, Freya managed to pull herself unsteadily onto her feet before staggering towards the door. No matter how much she tried, she just couldn't get her legs to respond the way she wanted them too. Numbness had spread throughout her body, and it had also seemingly interrupted her brain’s connection to her limbs. She swayed dubiously down the hallway towards their quarters, but collapsed again just outside the door when she remembered that he wouldn't be in there waiting for her. If he wouldn't be there, where would she go? If she couldn’t bring him back…

Then it happened. It was strange how quick it was, really. Something in her mind just—unhinged—and her sorrow gave way to an untempered ire that threatened to consume everything that she was. It was her fault! _‘If that bitch hadn't risked his life on increasingly dangerous missions, he wouldn't be… he would..’_ She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought, because if she did it would mean it was real. It couldn't be real. Not right now. _‘If I can't bring him back, I'll burn this whole place to the ground.’_ Bolting to her feet, she ambled down a dozen of the now familiar hallways towards a very specific set of doors. Clearly the bitch had foreseen her reaction because there, standing directly in her way, was a small honor guard of resistance soldiers in place to keep her away. _‘Oh ma'am, you wound me. Did you really believe that so small a force would be enough to keep my hands from wrapping around your throat?’_ A slightly unhinged giggle ripped itself out around the lump in her throat, and she slowed down her sprint into a stalking gait. **"You don't want to be in my way right now,"** she growled in a feral tone. For a moment they did actually move, but astonishingly they managed to recover from her command, and once more stationed themselves at the door.

 _'Screw the Force! I'll take them out all on my own merit!'_ It was with this final thought that she threw off her cowl, reached up over her shoulder into the scabbard that she always kept hidden beneath the layers of fabric and drew her vibroblade with a hiss. She pivoted her hip to take a wide slash at the nearest guard who instantly crumpled inward; hands clasped to his stomach in agony. In the same movement, she arched her sword down towards the calves of the next guard who had stupidly rushed her. As he was falling she dropped down to one knee and smoothly allowed her body's natural inertia to spin herself back around onto her heels. She shoved off from her back foot to dodge the shock baton that had been aimed at her, sucking in her stomach as it zoomed harmlessly passed.

She landed gracefully before once more darting forward, this time lashing upwards at the guard who had overextended himself with that baton swing. His body twirled elegantly in the air as her blade impacted his jaw with a singularly powerful blow, and she redirected her unarmed hand downwards to block yet another baton that had been aimed at her unprotected side by a different guard. She was surprised by the strength of the shock that vaulted over her arm and burrowed down deep into her bones. Honor guard troops usually weren't allowed to have their batons placed at such a high setting, but apparently these lovely gentlemen had been given special privileges where she was concerned. Her muscles seized up as another baton slipped past her defenses to brand the back of her right thigh. One of her previous victims had apparently recovered enough of his bravery to retaliate.

She collapsed in a heap just outside the crimson door of the General's quarters, and as Frey's body instinctively assumed the fetal position in an attempt to protect herself; the undeniable swish of the hydraulic door opening accompanied yet another shock the guards inflicted on her. Clearly, she had given them quite a scare. **''Take her to the basement and let her rot in a cell for a while. Maybe she'll come to her senses when she doesn't have anyone to attack like the wild animal she is."** Half a dozen hands reached for her at once, and she was unceremoniously dragged through the compound.

It didn't take very long for their little tableau to reach the hold, but truthfully she wasn't really aware of the passage of time. Right around the time that she managed to unscramble her thoughts enough to understand where she was, the brunette was roughly tossed onto the cold, rough ground. A humming sound started up, and she weakly lifted her head enough to look towards the way she had come. They had placed a forcefield up to keep her in. ‘ _Smart move.._ ’ Somberly she laid there in the exact way she had been thrown; one arm thrown awkwardly above her head, the other crushed beneath her body painfully. How could she care about that right now? She couldn't. What did it matter that she had numerous painful burn marks all over her body, or that she could feel fresh blood leaking out from between her lips? Her Poe was gone.

The numbness returned, and so did the swirling presence from earlier. Without thinking she took aim and lashed out at him with all the power, pain, anguish and anger that she couldn't contain inside her any longer. The darkness recoiled, and in the darkest part of her mind she thought she could feel him being thrown back from the intense mental pain she had just inflicted on him. Finally, with a heart-wrenching wail her levies broke and she screamed out all of the pain that had built up inside her. Her Poe was gone, and she didn't know what to do.  **"Please, please don't be dead.."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, Casper here!  
> I was actually going to hold onto this chapter until Friday, but I got too excited from the kudos and couldn't wait any longer. I hope you like it!
> 
> Please leave feedback if you notice something is off or any typos.
> 
> Question Time! For 100 points, what do you think Freya's punishment is going to be?


	4. Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After mourning her loss in the silence of a containment cell, Freya meets with someone she has no wish to see and is given a mission she cannot turn down. An old friend's persistence is rewarded.

_“She’s a cruel mistress, and a bargain must be made. But oh, my love, don't forget me. When I let the water take me.” - Florence + The Machine_

* * *

 

Loneliness had settled in hours after the tears had stopped. It was a crushing, empty feeling that permeated very sinew of muscle and tendon in her body. She lay curled inward, weeping with swollen, red eyes. While she had shifted herself from the prone position she had landed in when she was thrown in, she still laid despondent against the smooth stone of her holding cell. Frey could feel the semi-constant brushing of the swirling darkness against her mental borders and the accompanying flow of tempered concern that trickled through their connection. Thus far she had managed to keep him at bay, though she was considering letting him through just to spite the bitch who had thrown Poe to the wolves.

It had taken a while, but she was finally beginning to calm herself down enough that breathing no longer felt like a chore. Her eyes and cheeks still felt like sandpaper from her hours of crying, but at least her rage had quelled to settle around minor loathing. She no longer wished to kill the General, and honestly she could easily admit that she had reacted badly. Still, Leia’s indifference to her pain and the way she had forced everyone else to ignore her; it wasn't right.

Of all the conflicting emotions that agitated around inside her mind, spite towards the woman who had all-but raised her the last ten years was the easiest to justify. _‘How could she send him alone on a mission where his life was at risk?’_ She thought to herself sullenly. _‘Could she have done this to spite me? As a warning for being distracted?’_ It was highly unlikely that the General would have actually done something to risk Poe’s life, right? Frey opened her eyes and stared at the rough stone floor, trying to puzzle out whether or not she could dig her way out of her cell with only what she had on hand. The guards had removed her vibroblade and unlatched her pistol from her belt before throwing her in.

Freya was about two seconds from Force pushing the guard into a wall for fun, but the sound of clicking heels forced her to change her plans. Instead the brunette shifted herself off the floor and into a sitting position. The action did little to change her standing in the general’s eyes, but it made her feel less vulnerable than lying sprawled out on the floor. Usually Frey would be more concerned by the dirt and grime that was spread all over her suit, but today she couldn't bring herself to care. If the sound of familiar heel steps hadn't given away who her impending visitor was, the subtle waves of radiating Force that wafted off of her did.

Though it took every ounce of her strength to school her face into a mask of indifference, internally she felt like she was fracturing into a million tiny little particles. Though her body ached and burned from the wounds she had gained the day before, she managed to force herself to sit with her legs crossed as if she was readying for meditation. Placing her hands limply on her knees and closed her eyes, completing her facade. Though she was sure that Leia would see right through her, she wanted to pretend that she was unaffected, aloof. It was less likely that the bitch would use her emotions as a mental weapon if she could appear…. alright. She was so far from alright.

 **“I see you're awake, finally.”** A twitch of an eyebrow almost gave her away, but she righted herself and ignored the woman for now. She knew she wouldn't be able to get away with this much longer, but truthfully the girl took a certain amount of sick pleasure in being purposefully insubordinate. As if reacting to her familiar presence, the darkness that had been her constant—albeit unwanted companion—withdrew.

 _‘Hm, if that’s what it takes… be near one enemy to remove the other.’_ she thought to herself, amused by the irony. The brunette could feel the icy stare of the General as she fumed on the other side of the energy barrier. While she took her time acknowledging the fuming women, she mused over the vast differences that she had found between her former master and his sister. From what she could recall of him, Master Skywalker had been stern, concentrated and forceful; but above all things he had been kind, and often playful. Freya had understood that her Master had been different than the ancient masters of old, almost more human than the carved marble that the others had been.

 **“You are acting childish Freya, it’s below you,”** the elder woman said, interrupting her concentration. Another eyebrow twitch betrayed her, but she just shrugged it off and continued to ponder. Where he was kind and playful, his sister seemed to be nothing but harsh edges and perpetual frustration.

 _‘Maybe that’s what happens to you when your entire planet is blown up by daddy dearest?’_ That excuse had probably garnered enough pity from others, but Freya had begun to believe that the elder lady had used it and her brother’s legacy to bolster her place in the senate. Eventually though the truth had come out about her father’s identity and they had ousted the former princess. After all, who could trust the daughter of a sith lord.

 **“If you do not answer me when I am speaking to you, you will receive no aid for your wounds nor food for the next week.”** The threat was hollow and she knew though her training had been interrupted, all initiates were taught how to heal wounds with concentration. The food though, that might be a problem. With enough concentration, a fully-trained Jedi could learn to subsist on the energies of the Force, but unfortunately she hadn't yet taken her trials before the destruction of Yavin.

 _‘I could last a few days. Maybe enough to teach her not to threaten me? Scare her into thinking she was going to lose her prized possession?’_ Unfortunately it was around this time that her body very vocally voiced its dissent. The answering gurgle echoed lowly against the cave-like cell, followed closely by a resigned sigh. **“What do you want _Leia_?”** The brunette’s tone echoed her sour mood, but her snarky use of the elder’s name would surely irk her. **“Are you missing your lapdog licking at your heels?”** she added wryly. Sure she was being self-depreciating, as far as she was concerned she deserved it. Poe was dead because of her. Because she had loved him. Gotten too comfortable.

 **“Clearly my lapdog, as you put it, is need of retraining. Didn't I teach you not to bite the hand that feeds you?”** Freya leveled a harsh glare at the woman, but she was still too numb inside for it to have much bite. To most of the world Leia Organa was a kind and motherly figure, stern when she needed to be and fierce. She treated most people fairly and had compassion for even her enemies. There was really only one person who was not prone to receiving anything other than ire from the resistance leader; Freya Revik. For some reason, that well-known Leia Organa as not the woman she knew, or at least the elder didn't show her those sides of her. When they were alone, Leia was cruel and calculating. She was careful though, only allowing her personal guard to see how she treated the young resistance fighter.

 **“Clearly you didn't hear me the first time, so I'll try again. What do you want?”** Freya wasn't in the mood for an audience to her grief, and clearly Leia was in the mood to rub salt in her wounds.

 **“What I want is for you to behave yourself. What I want is to not have to fear an attack from my subordinates. What I want is your obedience,”** she said vehemently, practically spitting like a kicked rancor. **“I am sorry for your loss. Poe was an excellent pilot, and he knew what he was getting into when he joined the resistance. So do you,”** she continued, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

 **“No. You don't get to talk about him like that..”** Freya was practically growling, feral in her rage as the elder’s half-hearted platitudes reached her through her bars. A lesser person might have been yelling at this point, banging on the barrier, maybe even throwing themselves at the wall, but not her. Her muscles were tensed, coiled tightly like a tigress waiting to pounce. Precise control had been beaten so far into her that it came as second nature now, it had just taken her a day to remember herself. She concentrated on placing all of the broken pieces of her heart in a little box in her mind and labeling it _open tomorrow_ , because right now she couldn't allow herself to mourn anymore.

 **“I will talk about him any which way I wish little girl. Now, if you are done being petty, I have a proposition for you,”** the General began, her lips pursing as she schooled her features into a look that screamed ‘this is business’. **“Now before you launch into another childish tantrum about how horrible I am, you should hear me out. It's in your best interest,”** she interrupted, having seen Frey about to say something; probably rude from the look on her face. The General folded her arms over her chest and shot her a smug grin. Frey’s mask of indifference had fractured by this point, but she had managed to scrape up enough control to keep her sitting down on the cool ground; when all she really wanted to do was launch herself at the bitch and rip her throat out like the feral dog she was being treated like.

 **“What. Do. You. Want?”** Freya growled, her tightly wound control was fraying uncontrollably, and she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to quell the rage that was building up inside her. How she had ever considered this woman a mother to her, she would never be able to reconcile. Her usually bright hazel eyes were dull and listless, but she trained them on the face of the woman speaking to her like she was just another monster.

**“I have a mission for you—“**

**“There is literally nothing you can bribe me with that would make me want to do a damn thing for you right now,”** Frey interrupted. Her dull eyes were set ablaze at the sheer balls this woman had to possess, for her to even think that Frey would willingly do jack shit for her anytime in the foreseeable future.

**“If you do this mission and return successful, I will release you from my service.”**

  
Freya’s body chilled instantly. A sharp shiver shot down her spine, rendering her momentarily paralyzed. There was no way that this was actually real, and if it was there was bound to be some over-arching catch; there always was. Her eyes dropped suddenly to the floor, counting the divots in the stone to try to calm her racing thoughts. Could she actually be free? _‘Do I want to be?’_ It took her longer than she cared to admit, but once she managed to wrangle her sprinting mind, she lifted her eyes to study the woman again. **“What is this mission?”**

 **“Will you behave if I lower this?”** she asked, gesturing to the flickering wall separating them. Wordlessly the younger woman nodded her assent and Freya watched as the General signaled something to the guard standing at attention beside her cage. With a hiss the barricade blocking her from the woman fell, and once more Freya had to fight the instinct to tear her heart out. “ **I’ll send the information to your datapad. Get yourself ready, you leave tomorrow at oh-four-hundred,”** she said briskly. With a last withering look she turned around to leave, but not before giving her one last bitchy comment, **“and clean yourself up, you smell like bantha shit.”**

She snapped like an over-tightened guitar string, and without preamble she had skyrocketed to her feet and propelled herself at the retreating figure of the woman she had once called mother. _‘But she never really was, was she?’_ Mothers were supposed to pick you up and tell you everything was going to be okay. They’re not supposed to be the cause of your pain, they’re supposed to make it go away. Mother’s are supposed to tell you that thunder is angels bowling, that it’s okay to be afraid of the dark, and that it isn't silly to think that there might be monsters under your bed. They’re supposed to tell you that ‘yes it’s okay if you want to climb into bed with them just this once’ because it's scary in the room alone.

 **“You piece of shi—“** she never got to finish her insult as once again the brunette found herself face first on the ground, yet another burn blazing over the breadth of her back. Tears pricked painfully at the corners of her eyes, the strain of the night’s previous tears making it grating like sand paper. Mothers were supposed to say that it's okay to be afraid, and not be the thing you were so afraid of; they’re supposed to love you no matter what. The sound of heels clicking on stone greeted her, and she turned her head to stare up at the women.

 **“You can't take away your pain by hurting me,”** she said with a sigh. A polished leather shoe appeared in front of her face as the General used the tip of it to force her chin up so that Freya was staring at her. **“But now you can go on your mission without having your injuries seen to.”** Mothers are supposed to teach you that, yes, there are monsters, and it’s okay to be afraid of them. Mothers teach you that it’s not okay to let the monsters win, and it’s not okay to be one. So, what did that make Leia Organa? What did that make the woman who had molded her into a monster that even the First Order feared?

Her breathing was ragged as she lay there on the floor, spittle flying from her mouth as she fought back angry tears. She heard the guards laughing as they also walked away, leaving her to nurse her wounds and find her own way back to her quarters. Once the residual shock had left her system, she pushed herself up onto her knees and then her feet. She favored her right calf as she limped her way to the door and down the hallway.

It took her much longer than she would have liked to get back to her quarters. She had sat there staring at the door for what felt like forever, before she managed to push herself through and into her living room. It looked exactly the same as it had when she left, which surprised her. Surely the place must know that he was gone, right? That he was never coming back to make the bed like she had planned, or eat the leftovers of his favorite dessert that he had left unfinished in the chiller. No, somehow in this room he was still very much alive, kept sentient by the things he had cherished. Now that she was looking, she could see evidence of his life everywhere she looked. In the way his pilot manuals were stacked haphazardly next to their lumpy sofa, or in the unfolded blanket draped carelessly over the cushions. She saw him in the paintings he had bartered for on the distant planets he had visited, their scuffed up frames only adding to their worth. They told his stories.

He wasn't coming back, no matter what this room thought.

She stiffly removed her shadow suit, moving through the motions as if it were any regular day and not the one where she’d lost yet another man to whom she’d given her heart. _‘I'm starting to wonder if I'm cursed… it would explain a lot.’_ Naked and shivering, she dropped her suit into the special cleanser unit and set the cycle to quick-wash. It had to be ready as soon as she got out of the shower, as staying in this room was beginning to make her manic again. Without allowing herself to linger any longer on the pieces of Poe that she found around their quarters, she marched herself robotically to the refresher and directly into the shower.

Unlike the resistance bases located on the various desert planets around the ‘verse that required dry showering, D’Qar was absolutely spoiling with water. It was an often sought after luxury to be allowed to use actual water whilst bathing. None of these interesting facts mattered to Freya right now though, and as she settled into the moderately sized water closet, she turned the water to frigid. A stifled shriek hissed from her lips as the water reached her. The shock of the icy water cascading over her prone body had her shivering instantly, but the affect she had wanted—clarity—had washed over her instantly. Over a day walking around in a haze had done a number on her nerves, but the bitter caress of the glacial water thrust her right back—firmly—into reality.

Poe was dead, but now she could be free. She had to prioritize her problems. First she would complete this mission as she always did, and then she would allow herself to properly mourn Poe far, far away from the Resistance and _her_. Her body trembled chaotically as she stepped slowly from the shower. She wrapped herself up in her usual plush towel, but even after her body began to warm; the chill never left her bones. Under normal circumstances she would have immediately left, mission parameters in hand, but she was so tired. Weary and forlorn enough to make mistakes.

Without even worrying about clothes, she threw herself wholly into bed and wrapped herself up in her down comforter. She tried to lose herself to the thrall of sleep, but someone refused to be ignored any longer. She could feel him pressing against her walls, hard enough to feel like she was being smothered without the curtesy of physical contact. Once more that spiteful streak raised its vindictive head, and she was sorely tempted to give in and let him see everything. She knew better though, than to let that man poke around unattended in her head. There was more than just resistance secrets to keep locked away in her head.

Still, she was sure that with how insistent he was being tonight, that if she didn't let him in willingly he was just going to force his way through; harming them both. Listlessly she warded up her most important thoughts, hoping that he would ignore them in favor of the small crack in her armor she was about to give him. The idea was that if he assumed that she wasn't letting him in willingly, then he would only focus on that small flaw; ignoring the others. Once she was sure that most of her mind was sequestered behind moderately firm mental walls, she loosened her hold on the proverbial wall keeping him out. She liked to think about it like lowering a drawbridge.

He swarmed at the chink in her armor like a moth to a flame, and eventually he trickled through far enough that she could almost feel him physically curl around her. **_“I have been trying to reach you all day. I felt your pain through the bond. Talk to me.”_** He didn't leave much room in the way of argument, the raw inferno of his words almost smothering the weaker flame of her spirit. Even in the vast sea of the Force she felt fragile. If he noticed, he didn't act on the knowledge.

 ** _“Not now. I can’t—I can't do this right now Ben,”_** she whimpered, trying to hold herself together enough to not get lost in his radiating darkness. Her focus was strained by the events of the day, and ultimately she wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Already she could feel him trying to force himself deeper into her mind, filling up all the available space with the suffocating brilliance of his power. Even if it weren't him it would be intoxicating. Having him in her head was like playing with a power line; dangerous enough to tread, and death to try to stand on solid ground while grasping it.

 ** _“Don't bullshit me Kai. We both know that I understand you better than that,”_** He sounded so sure of what he believed of her, that she was tempted to just let herself believe it. It would be easier to believe that this man knew her, maybe even more than she knew herself, but after ten years she was pretty sure that he knew nothing about her. How could he? He’d left her too. **_“Kai. Talk to me,”_** he pleaded. If she’d been in the right mind to care, she would actually have been surprised by the beseeching way that he was speaking to her.

 ** _“My…”_** boyfriend, lover, what exactly should she tell him? ** _“My boyfriend. He was killed today,”_** she continued, each word sending her tumbling further back down into despair. It was strange, but she was almost certain that she felt him wrap himself around her and support all of the broken pieces that made up her presence in the Force. While his presence felt overwhelming and powerful, she was sure that all he felt of her was sand flowing through his fingers. Freya felt as though she was falling apart and try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from trickling away.

 ** _“…”_** Silence met her on the other side of their connection. Was it because he was actually feeling sorry for her, or was it because he hadn't even been aware that she had someone else in her life? In the spirit of fairness, he had to have assumed she wouldn't just wait around for him; after all, he hadn't. **_“I see,”_** was all he muttered. This peaked her curiosity, as usually he was much more chatty about things like this. Did he know something about what had happened to Poe?

 _‘There is likely no way that he would know about the death of one single pilot in the entirety of the ‘verse, but why that hesitation?’_ Her thoughts were racing at a billion miles and hour, but she was grateful for the distraction he had unwittingly provided. Thinking quickly she scrambled to mask the faint change of her Force signature as her mood shifted. **_“We’d been living together for almost a year now…”_** she whimpered, though now she had a reason to be oversharing. Maybe if she prodded him enough with her relationship, he would spill everything that he was hiding from her. He had always had a bit of a jealous streak. While it was doubtful that after this long that he held any lingering feelings for her, it was worth a try.

A lightning fast flicker of emotion flared around him, but whatever it was never translated over to her end of their connection. She couldn't be entirely sure, but if she had to guess she would call it jealousy. She muffled her amusement as she continued to concentrate on the emotions she could still feel trickling down to her. He was censoring himself now, and she was barely feeling anything from him. **_“I'm sorry Kai, truly. Guess we’re both having relationship… crises.”_** Oh he was being careful indeed now, scripting his words ever so carefully.

 ** _“That’s one way to put it, I suppose,”_** she trailed off, suspicion beginning to swell within her. She could feel him beginning to withdraw from around her as if registering her change in mood. No longer did she feel quite so fragile, but she still wasn't strong enough to push him out of her mind by herself. Truthfully, it didn't matter if he knew anything about Poe or not, it's not like knowing anything would bring him back to her. Still, she was growing tired of this mental game and his presence was beginning to irritate her. Apparently this line of conversation was not what he had expected though, so maybe if she continued he would just leave her alone. **_“Things were different with him though… he’d asked me to marry him, Ben,”_** she smoothly lied. Freya had to approach this carefully or else instead of warding him off, she would only succeed in pissing him off.

 ** _“Oh?”_** The curiosity she felt trickle through their bond was tainted by the sickly feeling of, if she'd been right in her assumption previously, was that selfsame jealousy from before. He was still restraining himself carefully. It spoke to the strength of their bond that she was able to feel anything from him at all while he was restricting himself so thoroughly. **_“I'm not sure whether to congratulate you, or give my condolences,”_** he admitted briskly, continuing to pull away from her. She could perceive the distance between them now, feel the lack of mental contact leaving her painfully, like a fresh burn. Part of her would always crave him, but Freya had resolved years ago that she would never again give into that yearning.

 ** _“Our bed is just so empty now,”_** I said, ignoring his statement entirely. Even if she had lied about the proposal, it still stung to think about the loss of that potential future. Her and Poe had discussed their mutual interest in settling down one day, but with the unrest of the galaxy there had never been a good time to seriously consider marriage. After all, neither of them wanted to risk leaving a widow behind in the instance that one of their missions claimed their lives. _‘Like now,’_ she mused to herself. Unfortunately she could tell while he was respectfully giving her some space, there was no further indication that he planned to leave her alone anytime soon. **_“Ben, I have to go. I need sleep. Busy day tomorrow.”_**

 ** _“Going on a mission?”_** He asked this calmly, like he actually anticipated her answering him.

 ** _“You know I can’t tell you that,”_** she retorted with a small sigh. Freya could feel barely restrained frustration and anger flare over him, though it spoke a lot about the status of their friendship that he was at least trying to keep it from reaching her.

**_“That’s my cue to leave then, right?”_ **

**_“Probably for the best.”_ **

**_“Good night then Kai. We’ll talk again soon.”_ **

She didn't reply, but she felt him slowly withdraw from her mind. It felt like excising an abscess, reducing the pressure in her head and leaving behind a large empty space that he had previously occupied. Once he was safely outside of her barriers, she slammed them back up behind him like springing a bear trap. Physically she could feel her body relaxing, and almost immediately she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I had a little bit of writers block due to the stress of my car's radiator crapping out on me. Hope it's not too rough! Also would you guys prefer if I didn't bold the words?
> 
> Quiz Time! 
> 
> What do you think her mission will entail? 
> 
> 20 points for a correct answer, 10 for the attempt!


	5. Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long ass writer’s comment at the end. Enjoy!

Her orders came in a few hours later, indicated by a sharp beeping, and the void of darkness was disrupted by the blinding flash of her datapad lighting up. The numbness of her brief slumber ebbed away slowly, but it didn’t take long for a groan to ripple from her lips as the bone-deep aches and burns from her recent bout of idiocy began to flood back. Instinctively she stretched her hand out across the silken sheets of her bed to reach for the warm body that was usually there. This time though, all she felt was the chill of emptiness. Instantly she remembered that Poe, her Poe, wouldn’t be there waiting for her this morning. He was gone, and he was never coming back.

She snatched her hand back like it was burned. Frey could feel her body instinctively curling in on itself, trying to ward away the pain the only way that it knew how. Truthfully, she prefered the type of pain that one could guard against. It was easy to buckle down and endure physical pain, but emotional pain ignored the protection of muscles and sinew, drilling directly into the heart and mind. It permeated every thought in her head like a virus, weakening her resolve to ever leave the bed again. From the depths of her psyche, she was vaguely aware that her body was trembling, but for the life of her she couldn’t quite figure out why. It was only after her pillow began to stick to her skin did it finally register that she had been crying.

Once more she reached out to the other side of the bed, and grasping blindly, latched onto the only other pillow on the bed and slowly dragged it over to burrow her face in it. It smelled like him still, though she could tell that soon it wouldn’t. He had been gone long enough now that even the scent of him refused to linger, if only to preserve the small amount of sanity that she still had. Wrapping her arms around the soft object felt like a struggle at the moment, but she was allowing herself this moment to mourn. She knew that eventually she would have to leave their bed and embark on her mission, but right now she really could have cared less. Right now she wasn’t the Resistance’s pitbull, she was just a heartbroken girl with a hole blown straight through her world.

Her datapad beeped at her aggressively, once again reminding her that she had other things that needed to be attended to. The alert finally managed to reach her at a deeper level, and she felt herself claw out of the hole she had been hiding in inside her head. She blinked away the drying tears in her eyes, and slowly allowed her body to unclench.

“What am I even doing right now?,” she muttered to herself “Poe would be laughing at how stupid I look….” She released her vice like grip on the pillow and slid her elbow below it and used it to rise from her curled position on the bed.

She shoved the blanket off herself listlessly, fingers lingering in the soft linen only long enough to burn the memory of in her mind. After all, this would likely be the last time that she would feel it against her skin. Foregoing clothes for the moment, modesty not being high on her priority list, she headed straight for the refresher to clear the salt and sweat from her body. Frey allowed herself to fall into autopilot, preferring the thoughtless repetition to overthinking everything. In silence she went about her daily routine, eating sparsely though she probably should have eaten more as she wasn’t entirely sure how long her flight was going to be.

At some point she had managed to locate clean underwear and slid them on before grabbing up her freshly laundered shadow suit out from the cleanser unit she had dumped it in the morning before. Her body flinched instinctively as the silky fabric caught on the angry, raised burn marks from the guard’s vibroblades. Any other day, Leia would have allowed her to stop by the medbay to have them treated before her next mission, but today Freya highly doubted that would be the case. _‘To be fair, I did attempt to kill her and maim her guards.’_ she thought introspectively. She zipped up the suit carefully and grabbed up her vibroblade and holster, buckling it on swiftly. She had already done her usual routine of braids in her hair to hold on her stealth-tech goggles, and eyeshadow. Unfortunately this morning, all the eyeliner had done was accentuate the swollen, blotchy look under her eyes.

She pulled on the white cowl over her black suit, and absently typed in a code on her sleeve that had the suit transitioning to the same hard, leather-like material it had been the day before. Only once she had latched the last buckle on her cowl did she return to her unmade bed and snatch up her datapad from the teak side table. She swiftly typed out her code into the pad and settled herself down onto the bed as she read the outline for her mission. An eyebrow lifted as confusion flooded through her. _‘She doesn’t actually expect me to take this, does she?’_ she thought to herself, eyes darting over the words typed out on the screen.

 

 

> OPERATION ORDER FKR1589 “ARCTURUS”
> 
> Reference: Map of Fourth Quadrant of Unknown Sector
> 
> Task Organization:
> 
> ○ Survey and accurately list unit numbers and plot mobilization of view-able units.  
>  ○ Infiltrate and assassinate the commander of the ship Finalizer and provide proof of completion.
> 
> 1\. SITUATION
> 
> Enemy Forces. Forces have been sighted lingering in this quadrant and returning often. We must get an accurate count of the enemy force’s numbers as well as a firm concept of their movements. Commander of the above mentioned star destroyer has proved himself illusive and has become ENEMY #2. Dispose of him and send proof of completion via usual methods.
> 
> Friendly Forces. Will not be en-route to assist. This will be a solo mission and there will be no EVAC waiting in the wings.
> 
> Attachments and Detachments. None at this time.
> 
> 2\. MISSION  
>  3\. EXECUTION
> 
> Instant
> 
> 4\. CONCLUSION. Upon completion “ARCTURUS” is to be retired with full honors.

 

Her brain was having trouble processing what she was reading, it kept lingering on the name of the ship she was apparently going to be attempting to infiltrate in a matter of hours. _‘Finalizer…. Of course she wouldn’t let me go that easily. That bitch.’_ If she had been a lesser person, she would have given into the building rage inside her and smashed her datapad against the wall, but she beat down the urge and simply clicked the ‘acknowledged’ box that would alert the Commander that she had received and reviewed the orders.

Still shaking in unbridled fury, she curled her fingers around the datapad and stood from her previous sitting position on her bed. With a flick of her finger, she hit the button that would place the pad into a sleep mode and shoved it harshly into one of the larger pouches at her side.

“Damn her,” she muttered, adjusting her blade that lay across her back, she stalked out of the bedroom and out towards the door. She was about to jam her hand down on the access panel and leave the room, but she halted just an inch from the pad and glanced once over her shoulder at the room around her. Internally she battled with the sentimental side of herself that was screaming for her to at least take something with her that would help her cling to the memory of him.

Once again she felt herself deflate a little as she released the breathe that she had been holding in the form of a small defeated sigh. It was better that she didn’t burden herself or her ship with too much clutter, but she knew that she would regret it forever if she didn’t take some kind of memento of her time with him with her before she left. Frey had absolutely no plans to return, so if she completed her mission or somehow failed, all of their things would be parceled out and granted to the hierarchy of the Resistance or merely thrown away. With that train of thought placed firmly in mind, she turned and allowed herself to peruse the items lying scattered around the living room with a critical eye.

“I will only take one thing. Anything more will only be cumbersome,” she said in an attempt to reason with herself. Everything that she looked at had her feeling like she was being torn in half. They had gotten everything in this room together or for each other, and now she had to force herself not to snatch every crappy, sentimental painting off the wall and store them in her ship’s hanger bay. Tentatively she slipped through the living room, fingers softly touching on the few shirts that she had to stifle a laugh as she remembered why they had been abandoned there. It was a bittersweet memory now though, so she forced herself to sideline it until another day.

Eventually her eyes landed on a worn old book that rested undisturbed upon a small stack of books on a shelf near their modest couch. It was love-worn and the spine was severely creased but she knew the moment it caught her eye that this was the memento that she would be taking with her. The sudden urge to cry resurfaced instantly once her slender fingers curled around the pages, forcing her to press the fingers on her unoccupied hand to her lips as if it could possibly hold back the whimper that slipped through them unbidden. Curling her arm to tuck the book safely against her chest, she backtracked towards the door and immediately exited. She walked down the near empty hall, fingers caressing the pages as she reflected on the way that she’d first gotten the book.

* * *

 

**D'Qar — One Year Prior**

 

The meager marketplace nestled under the boughs of the large trees for cover was surprisingly bustling that day, but Freya had a very specific task in mind for the day, and not even several dozen people were going to deter her from her quarry. Today was her day off, and as rare as they were, she never really had the time to restock her kitchen with anything other than protein bars and ration packs. It had begun to wear on her. She had wrapped her head loosely with the pale white cowl that usually rested on her shoulders, and she had begun her arduous task of foraging the small shops for as many edible articles she could wrap her hands around.

Money was very rarely an issue, but what she had most hoped to see lying in baskets was her favorite fruit in the whole of the galaxy; jogan fruit. One of her contacts in the supply team had sent a missive to her datapad that morning about a cache of them that was supposed to be making its entrance today at the market, but as of yet it had proven elusive. Her stomach made its displeasure known with an obnoxious rumbling and she sighed in defeat.

Spinning on her heel, she began her trek back away from the cacophony of bartering voices when the barest glimmer of royal purple caught in the corner of her eye. Excitement lit in her breast and she could have sworn she even felt her heart stutter as she immediately swung around and charged over to the small canva-covered tent. As she approached, she could have sworn she caught a small flicker of fear in the bright eyes of the alien vendor, but she brushed it off figuring she probably looked a little daunting at the moment. With a borderline manic grin on her face, she reached forward to grab a handful of the plump fruits but was abruptly stopped when a sharp pain shot up her arm.

 _“Nobata couma bu rowka yae «No touching the merchandise human»”_ the creature hissed out at her, waving what looked like a miniature stunner held in her meaty hand. Freya narrowed her eyes as the words registered in her mind. She pulled her injured hand back and her hazel eyes surveyed the angered skin on her wrist with mild disdain.

 _“Jee kankanla bai bedwana fa. Jee ritke banag bai mesohba fa koo «I intend to buy it. I just wanted to look at it first»”_ she explained brusquely, massaging her throbbing hand with the fingers on her other hand in an attempt to work the pain away. Instead of answering her explanation with one of it’s own, the creature just narrowed it’s eyes at her and crossed it’s arms. If she didn’t know any better, she would have assumed that it thought she intended to steal something. _‘Is my Huttese rusty? Maybe she didn’t understand me properly,’_ she thought to herself.

“I apologize, it appears I am rusty, do you speak basic?” she asked with what she hoped was a sheepish grin, and not the annoyed grimace she thought it could be.

“I do, but I do not barter with _ukaueth «thieves»_ ,” it replied with an obvious glower on her face.

Frey stood there for a moment, rendered inert by the rather surprising allegation that she would ever be considered anything close to a thief. _‘I have been called many a thing, but thief is definitely a new one.’_ she mused to herself once her brain finally rebooted and she realized that she was staring.

“I had no intention of stealing anything ma’am—sir—um what was your name?” Embarrassment flooded through her, washing past the small flash of rage that had welled up in her at the previous accusation, and she stumbled over her words. It wasn’t like she couldn’t tell the difference between genders, but as of today she had run into this species a total of one time. _‘So much for good first impressions,’_ she thought to herself glumly.

The creature exhaled a rather impressive growl and it’s eyes narrowed, further hinting at the fact that she had unintentionally insulted it’s pride. Deciding then and there that she needed to immediately change tact or risk losing out on any chance to taste jogan fruit in the near future, she screwed her face up into her best sheepish smile, and fished out her coin purse from the satchel on her hip.

“Alright. Anyway. Can I please get a bag of the jogan fruit? I can pay you,” she offered, parting the lips of the purse to show the contents within to the vendor.

 _“Nobata.”_ it said brusquely in a tone that hinted of very little room for bargaining.

“What do you mean ‘no’? I’m offering to pay you and have not offered you any intentional insult?” she rebutted, immediately confused as to why this vendor was refusing her service. Apart from the accidental slip up with the gender a moment ago, to her knowledge she hadn’t done much to deserve being denied.

 _“Jee cha dwana mah pacahlox'a bai ukaueth «I do not sell my wares to thieves»”_   it growled again, waving the miniature stunner in it’s hand around again near her face as if it would prove some unseen point.

“I am not a thief.” she hissed through her teeth. She was getting quite sick of being called something that she was obviously not, especially by some creature that barely knew her. She could feel the anger and insult that she felt at the accusation beginning to well deep within her, and she struggled silently to tamp it down enough that she didn’t scramble over the counter and throttle the creature to death. Closing her eyes for a moment, she inhaled deeply through her nose and released it slowly through her mouth in an attempt to calm herself down enough to speak again without shouting. “I just wish to purchase some fruit please.”

“ _Yoieu cahba yae «Get lost human»_ ” it snorted and she could only assume that the deep rumbling that came from the figure was it laughing at her as well.

Freya was usually a very calm person. Usually she could be described as collected, and actually a little reserved in most regards. She actually liked to pride herself on her ability to wrangle her emotions rather adeptly, but it was as if the sound of this rude creature laughing at her and calling her ‘thief’ had torn down her reserves. In a flash she had launched herself at the counter and reached for the creature whose face was contorted into a mask of pure fear and alarm.

She was inches away from sinking her nails into the creatures ugly face when she felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her ankle. Enraged and fairly out of her right mind at the moment, she retaliated by kicking backwards at the hands in an attempt to disengage them. Unfortunately it seemed that the hands were attached to someone fairly determined to derail her plans of ripping the lungs out of the vendor.

“Hey! Hey calm—calm down!” a voice called out, sounding disgruntled and moderately harassed.

“No! I just have to—” she grumbled, her knee slipping and threatening to come out from beneath her.

Once again the hands shifted, moving further up her legs to grasp desperately at her hips. She felt her face flush momentarily as she felt the fingers dip down past the hem of her pants as he struggled to hold onto her squirming body.

“Hey watch your fingers there buddy!” she growled, reaching back towards the offending hand and attempted to wrest it from her body. The small adjustment had her wobbling and she felt herself sliding back despite her every attempt to lunge farther forward. With a growl, she dug her knee into the counter and launched her entire body from the counter once more as a final attempt to get her hands on the asshole who had insulted her. Her fingers brushed the air just in front of the creatures face before she found herself flying backwards into who she assumed the wandering hands had belonged to.

She struggled to turn around to face her assailant, but he must have misunderstood her actions for further aggression towards the vendor, as she felt his arms adjust and slip upwards to wrap around her shoulders in a locking hold.

“Calm down and I’ll let you go,” she heard him grunt into her hair, struggling to hold onto her as she thrashed in his arms.

All she could do was smirk at his rather presumptuous assumption that he was actually capable of holding her for long anyway. In a flash she had centered her weight, widened her stance, and grasped onto his arms, using her hips to pivot forward to throw the man up and over her shoulders. He landed on the ground directly on his back with a thundering slam, and in his breathlessness and alarm he had released his grip on her. Though he seemed winded, the look on the man’s face as he lay sprawled on the floor seemed to her to be a mix of awe and confusion appropriately mixed with the pain from hitting the ground suddenly.

All at once the rage she had felt at the vendor fled her and she felt nothing but embarrassment and worry as she crouched down to check on the man she had so thoroughly laid out unceremoniously.

“Oh stars, I am so sorry about that. I well,” she stuttered out, reaching a hand down in an offer to help him back up to his feet, “I kind of panic when someone grabs me like that. But that’s so not an excuse for my behavior! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. You’re okay, right?” she rambled on, her face flushing crimson as her cowl fell around her shoulders in disarray. She reached down further to grasp the forearm he had extended in response to her reaching to him, and scrambled to heave him back up onto his feet.

“Ha, yeah. I’m okay. Surprised. Stunned. A little confused, but okay,” he replied, breathlessly while brushing the debris off his clothes. He pulled a hand across his face before shaking his head and little and leveling a look at her that said too much to decipher in one sitting. She could tell though that the underlying feeling was, surprisingly, amusement.

“You wanna explain to me exactly what’s going on here miss…?” he trailed off, obviously fishing for what to call her by.

“Freya. Freya Revik mister…?”

“Poe. Dameron."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry that it took me so long to get this out. The day after my last update, my roommate’s dog attacked and killed my cat. She died of her injuries and it kind of killed my will to do much of anything. Anyway I have been onc again working on this story and I’m sorry if this one is a little short. It’s part of a much larger chapter and this was the only place I could chop it in two and it still made sense. Second chapter will be up as soon as I finished editing it! Please let me know what you think so far! I would really love any input.


	6. Storm Rising

**Previously on Ever-shifting Tides:**

_“You wanna explain to me exactly what’s going on here miss…?” he trailed off, obviously fishing for what to call her by._

_“Freya. Freya Revik mister…?”_

_“Poe. Dameron."_

* * *

 

“Poe. Dameron. Captain Dameron, actually, and you didn’t answer my question Miss Revik.” he replied pointedly, his lips seeming to fight against breaking into a grin. Frey wondered momentarily if he was new to this kind of thing, as he seemed much to laid back to be dolling out punishments for infractions.

“No. I didn’t. Apologies,” she said slowly, amusement flickering in her hazel eyes as she snuck a quick glance at this Captain Dameron. He was surprisingly young for a captain in a rugged, carefree kind of way. It was actually rather unusual that she didn’t recognise him from previous briefings, but Leia had been keeping her rather busy as of late. Maybe this was a much newer promotion than she previously thought. She was sure that he had noticed her scrutinizing him, but she really didn’t give a lick what he thought.

His face was surprisingly well groomed, though a bit of stubble could still be found on his strong jaw. His eyes were a very dark brown in color, though she was marginally tempted to lean closer, just to see if there were any flecks of additional color in them. He had a strong brow with thick, but also meticulously groomed eyebrows, which in and of itself hinted a little bit of underlying vanity. Russet hued curls were haphazardly styled upon his head, though it’s mess also spoke of some kind of organization. Either that or he was lucky enough to wake up with it looking so naturally masculine and delicious.

Due to the heat of the day, she was nonplussed to see the barest whisper of sweat collecting at his hairline. Her own hazel eyes followed a single droplet as it travelled it’s way down the side of his neck and eventually disappeared beneath the collar of his worn leather jacket. She felt herself swallowing shallowly, suddenly parched. The jacket in question looked worn soft with wear and was pulled loosely over an off-white tunic and the typical soldier shade of green. The man had one of his hands rested on a side holster attached to his belt and right leg, and a his boots looked about as worn as his jacket.

All in all he was fairly attractive, and so she decided to throw him a bone.

“This,” she motioned vaguely with her hand in the vendor’s direction, “... asshole, is refusing to sell me anything because for some reason it thought I was trying to steal or some nonsense.”

“And were you trying to steal something?” he asked with a small smile on his face, probably, she realized, from noticing her lingering stare on him.

“Of course not! I was just trying to look at the jogan fruit so I could buy some!” she growled, narrowing her eyes at his slight accusatory tone.

“Okay, okay. Hold your thrusters!” He merely chuckled and lifted his hands up in mock surrender as if to once again shield himself from her. With another small smile he turned to face the vendor and she nearly broke out laughing when she saw it blanch at his approach.

 _“Hee uba banag bai toupee mi wonkee kuna kee tee ritke dwana bu bengahena paupe whiph? «So you wanna to tell me why you won't just sell the lady some fruit?»”_ he asked it, placing his hands on his hips and sidling his weight over onto his right hip.

 _“Jee cha kankahchonha cay ukaueth «I don't barter with thieves»”_ it snarled.

 _“Rat, Jee yoieu da. «Yeah, I get that.»”_ he replied with a small sigh. He glanced backwards at her, and stared for a moment before he seemed to decide something. He turned back to the creature and swiped a hand across his forehead, shaking his head a little.

_“Tee, jeejee bauianet ba yoieu tah tram pee kaai. haku doth mee peekasa? «Well, we gotta get this settled somehow. What's your name?»”_

_“Peekasa doth Me’kluth. «Name is Me’kluth.»”_ he grumbled back, obviously beginning to calm down a little after his apparent near-death experience.

 _“Ahu, hee uba wont dwana bai bu scary bengahena, um hatkocanh uba dwana mi paupe whiph bantkoke? «Alright , so you won’t sell to the scary lady, but will you sell me some fruit instead?»_ ” he inquired. Frey cocked her head to the side as his question translated over in her head, and she found herself giving the man a second once-over. He was continuing to impress her, not only with his fluent Huttese, but also with his ability to defuse the situation. While she was still far from pleased with his insinuation that she was in any way scary, she could already feel the previous wave of anger leaving her as she stood in the street and waited for the outcome of their little talk.

 _“Whao fa hatkocanh youkesa uen doi dopo bai je killya, tagwa. boboba phabeka per whiph. «If it will stop her from trying to kill me, yes. 10 credits per fruit.»”_ the vendor replied brusquely, falling immediately into his merchant mode and leading with his first offer. He was still eyeing her warily like he was sure she was about to attack him again. She rolled her eyes, folded her arms and looked away.

 _“Meecooda woy k'wanna phabeka. «I can do 5 credits.»”_ Poe countered, a sly smile on his lips. Frey glanced at his back from the corner of her eye in mild surprise. After the fiasco previous, one would think that the man would be smart enough not to push his luck. To her surprise and amusement, the creature seemed to crack a nervous smile and leaned forward a little.

 _“Goba «seven»”_ the vendor countered, all previous alarm thrown to the wind in the face of a decent haggle.

 _“Dwana «sold»”_ Poe replied with a wide smile, offering his hand to shake the man’s hand, sealing their deal. Me’kluth grinned wide in reply, flashing large fangs and grasping the captain’s hand in return.

“How many do you want?” Poe asked, having turned his body slightly to look at her questioningly. Momentarily stunned by the turn of events, her mind betrayed her and she found herself stumbling over her answer. Frey heard him chuckle a little under his breath as he turned back towards the shop and shook his head again.

 _“Jee hatkocanh paknee ata keeta. Sonpa uba. «I'll take six. Thank you.»”_ he told the vendor for her, and she was surprised find a small smile curling onto her rosy lips. Disturbed by this, she quickly began fussing with her cowl, straightening it back to where it was before their little scuffle. In an attempt to look nonplussed and uninterested, she leaned against the large trunk of a nearby tree and immersed herself in the intense study of her fingernails. Subtly she watched Me’kluth pass Poe a small satchel of the fruit while in return the captain passed him a small handful of credits.

 _“Ateema kolka yoieu uen koumhaptece koumhaptecee doi mi. «Now please get her far away from me.»”_ Me’kluth stated bluntly, shooting her a knowing stare. Frey whipped her head around to glare at the vendor, and in a small lapse of judgement, she stuck her tongue out at him. While she knew it was supremely childish, she also found it was exceedingly satisfying once a look of fear flashed across the creature’s face again.

 _“It'll doth mah cuova. «It'll be my pleasure.»”_ Poe said in reply to the vendor as he turned to glance at her again, pure amusement flickering in those dark chocolate eyes of his. Frey scoffed and turned away, waiting in silence as she counted out the forty-two credits that she owed him. Annoyance at his white-knight attitude flickered to the forefront of her mind, and as she caught the sound of dirt shifting, she turned her head to glance at him. He stood there, self-satisfied grin on his face, and she just offered the hand that held his money out before her.

“Thank you, but that wasn’t necessary. I would have eventually gotten things under control myself,” she said, eyeing the small bag of fruit he held pointedly as if trying to will him to hand it over. _‘Technically, I could actually do that.’_ She smiled to herself internally as the thought came to mind, and soon after the possibly repercussions if she were to actually use that ability on the so-called Captain.

He reeled back dramatically, feigning the action of being shot by placing his hand on his chest. The action made her roll her eyes, but she was growing impatient; she did have other things she could be doing today.

“What, no thank you?” he asked her, a small chuckle littering his words.

“No thank you is needed when you intentionally interfered where you weren’t needed, Captain,” she shot back, eyes narrowing as she realised that he seemed incapable of speaking seriously, there always seemed to be laughter in his voice. No one real could ever be this jovial all the time, it just wasn’t possible.

“You’re kind of a stick in the mud, aren’t you?” Poe asked, eyeing her critically for the first time.

“I would take insult at that insinuation, but I have better things to be doing right now,” she frowned “so if you would be so kind as to give me my fruit and accept your payment, I will be on my way.” She decided then and there that she disliked his joviality simply on principle, that perhaps his overflowing humor was much to contrary to her usual sullen silence that it rubbed her the wrong way. Much like stroking a cat backwards, she was unamused by his pitiful attempts to poke fun at her. Still, she had to play as nicely as she could for the moment, as he held in his hands something she very much fundamental to her continued good day.

“Well fine then miss, I was glad to help either way,” he said whilst handing over the small bag of fruit, “ _A merrier hour was never wasted there._ No need to pay me back right now.” He gave her an impish smile and a strange sort of bow as he walked backwards away from her. Frey wanted to press him to take the money, but before she had the chance he had already turned and walked away. She was sure that she looked confused, as his behavior had been a little on the odd side. She had been expecting him to act insulted by her brusque treatment of him, but he had somehow taken in all in stride.

“Strange sort of man,” she muttered to herself, “but I suppose the trip wasn’t an entire waste of time.” It was only after the man had disappeared into the crowd, that she opened the small bag and noticed something amiss with its contents. All six of the fruit he had purchased was there, but nestled there beside them was a rather worn-out, leather-bound book. Frey glanced around quickly again in an attempt to catch sight of the elusive Poe Dameron, but if her instincts were right, he was far gone by now. Hazel eyes lit on a small outcropping of stone, and she carefully meandered over and settled herself down to survey the small gift.

She pulled the book carefully from the small satchel, and placed the fruit and bag down beside her, careful not to bruise the soft flesh of the jogan. Her pale fingers trailed over the leatherbound cover with care, surprise and a moderate dose of awe filling her entirely as she parted the pages and inspected the main cover. Gilded in gold, the letters for the title were inscribed in a beautiful calligraphy, and she couldn’t help herself from tracing them gently with her fingertips.

“ _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ by William Shakespeare,” she murmured softly to herself, “written in 1600… I wonder when that is in terms of stardate.” It was a beautiful gift, but she was confused as to why she had been given it. As though the universe had heard her unspoken question, a small slip of crisp paper fell from betwixt the pages as she leafed through them. Placing the book protectively on her legs, she bent over and retrieved the paper from off the ground where it had fallen, and turned it over. Transcribed in a neat print was a datapad code number and a short note that read: _Hope you enjoy the book! - Poe_

Her eyebrows rose in surprise and mild alarm, as she was fairly certain he wouldn’t have had the time to pick up a book between intervening in her business and bringing her the fruit, so logic dictated that he had planned to eventually introduce himself and gift this book to her. Whether or not he had intentionally planned to play the role of her white knight today remained to be seen. The brunette absolutely despised being in someone’s debt though, so she would have to hunt him down eventually to pay him the money she felt was owed.

 _‘For today though,’_ she thought to herself, pulling her datapad from the pouch at her side, _‘I’m going to just cancel that meeting with Leia and see what this book is all about. She can deal with whatever it is on her own,”_ she mused gleefully.

* * *

**D'Qar — Current Time**

 

Freya recalled the memory with tears in her eyes and sorrow settled deep within her soul. It had been a strange first meeting, that was for sure, but a hundred pages and a handful of days later she had hunted down the wayward fighter pilot and had all but forced the money she owed him into his pocket. He had insisted at the time that it wasn’t necessary, that he had meant to give both fruit and book as gifts, but that the situation had turned hostile before he’d had the chance to approach her normally. She had been confused as to why he had even thought to give her anything, reminding him that before the week before, they had never even met each other. Once again, he had proven her to be very wrong.

It had ended up being that she had unintentionally saved his life and that of his second-in-command on day when she had pointed out, what she thought was a minor bit of damage on their ships, but had turned out to be something rather catastrophic if not caught and fixed properly. The gifts had apparently been a sort of thank you, and she had immediately felt ashamed for the way she had reacted. It had been the book clutched firmly in her hands that he’d given to her that day at the market, and she had loved it thoroughly, as evidenced by the care-worn appearance of the pages.

There had always been a line in the play that Poe had said reminded him of her, and that was: _“I frown upon him, yet he loves me still.”_ He’d once told her that it was actually her standoffish nature that had first piqued his interest in her, and her sullenness that had kept him around. She had likened him to Don Juan, going after her for no reason but because he could and she was available, but he had proven that to be false when he confided in her that he had also been taken by their similarities in their usual mutual disregard for authority.

Outwardly she forced herself into something that could pass as a placid appearance, and wiped away the tears that had leaked from her eyes. Inwardly, she was a jumbled mess of emotions, but she also knew that she needed to get her shit together or she was going to completely botch her mission. The same mission that, to anyone else, could be considered a suicide mission. It would be tricky, but she was fairly confident that she could pull this off, if she was in her right mind, of course.

It took her mere minutes to reach the hanger bay, her dusky hued StealthX ship lay in it’s usual spot, sequestered in the corner of the bay closest to the exit. They had decided to keep her ship there because of her frequent comings and goings, and it kept others from getting in her way. With a flick of her hand, the hatch of her ship flew open and she gracefully settled into the cockpit. Her fingers flew over the familiar keys, programing in the last known location of the Finalizer. As the ship sealed itself and turned towards the door, she allowed herself one final wistful look back at the base. For all it’s faults and horrible memories, it was home, and some part of her was going to miss it. Moreso the people though.

She blindly tapped in the commands to activate the stealth capabilities of her ship. Her ship had been retooled and upgraded specifically for use on her assassination missions. On the outside it looked very much like a darker version of the stereotypical X-Wing fighter, but on the inside it was much more unique. It’s fusial engines burned a special tibanna isotope, whos efflux turned dark a millisecond after fusion. The viewports utilized blast-tinting technology, that tinted the viewports according to the amount of light outside, preventing the occupants from being blinded by explosions. The body of the ship was star-flected with irregular, matte-black fiberplast that rendered it almost invisible against the starry background of space. A gravitic modulator designed to defeat surrounding ship’s mass-detectors had replaced her ship’s third torpedo launcher, and the usual shielding for the x-wing had been downgraded to make room for the suite of sensor detectors.

As her ship lifted off and exited the atmosphere, she began to ready herself for the fight she knew awaited her just outside hyperspeed. She closed her eyes and began her meditation, trusting her ship to pilot her where she needed to go.

_‘I really hope that he’s not there. I’m not sure I could handle it right this moment, but the latest status reports on him had him off on some weird outer planet. I highly doubt he’ll get in my way.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Sorry it took so long! I ended up getting a little sick for a few days and it took be a little while to edit this properly. Once again I apologize for any errors!

**Author's Note:**

>  _I also have this posted on fanfiction.net as TroubleDaNewsie._  
>  I do not own anything recognizable from Star Wars with the exception of my OC's. Anything recognizable from Star Wars belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm and Disney. Thanks again for reading!


End file.
